


love walks in

by Shinkirou



Category: DRAMAtical Murder
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, M/M, Masturbation, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Post-Canon, Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-01
Updated: 2013-01-01
Packaged: 2017-12-05 21:07:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,233
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/727944
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shinkirou/pseuds/Shinkirou
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"welcome home", or something like that.</p>
            </blockquote>





	love walks in

**Author's Note:**

> shhh I can't do titles or endings. 5_prompt table 24 prompt 4 "join in", also inspired by this IYOTP [prompt](http://imagineyourotp.tumblr.com/post/43449034413/imagine-person-a-walking-in-on-person-b) (nsfw).

This probably wasn't what Koujaku had in mind when he gave Aoba a key to his apartment.

(... But then again, maybe it was. Though probably not exactly like this.)

Aoba had shown up before Koujaku was home - Koujaku had called and asked if he was free earlier that evening. Aoba had said "sure", and had been feeling a vague sense of excitement most of the day. Sure, he went over to Koujaku's about three days a week, but this was only the second time he'd be entering with his own key.

Even though at first things had been slightly awkward between them, from having made the jump from best friends to lovers rather suddenly, they'd eventually gotten more used to it. Gradually, Aoba was much less embarrassed about all the little affectionate things Koujaku would do for him, and when he'd received the key, at first he'd be so stunned he just sort of stared at it without really comprehending.

Then he'd whipped his head up sharply (nearly smashing Koujaku in the chin), and had asked if it was what he thought it was. Koujaku said it could be whatever he wanted it to be - an "open invitation", if Aoba wanted to think of it that way. Yeah, he'd always been welcome at Koujaku's place, but having his own key was...

Well, it felt special. The first time he'd used it, Koujaku was with him, watching his expression, and Aoba was sure he must have looked like an idiot, blushing uncontrollably while trying to hide how fast his heart was racing. Once they'd gotten inside, Aoba had spun and pressed Koujaku against the closed door with a heated kiss. 

They'd had sex on the couch, unable to even make it to the bedroom.

Now, Aoba was seated on that same couch, trying not to think too much about it. Oh, he didn't regret the sex - never had, never would - but how he'd acted... He'd practically torn Koujaku's clothes in his haste. Thinking back on it was slightly embarrassing; Aoba stood abruptly, putting Ren back to sleep mode and placing him gently on a cushion on the ground (which was of course there precisely for Ren), figuring it would alert Koujaku to Aoba's presence in case he forgot about inviting him over.

Aoba has been to Koujaku's place more times than he can count, but he still wanders around slowly, like it's only his first time. Taking in all the decorations - nothing over the top or gaudy, just tasteful - Aoba absently wanders into Koujaku's room. It's neat as always. Koujaku isn't a messy person by nature, Aoba knows. The dark furniture contrasts against the white and red decor flatteringly, and despite being not overly furnished, the room still feels welcoming and warm.

Eventually his gaze lands on the bed, and he feels that vague sense of bashfulness wash over him again. Again, he's not ashamed of what they do, it's just how he acts sometimes during such acts. But even as he feels his face heating up, another feeling washes over him as he recalls some of the many times that this bed has been used for activities other than sleeping.

Before he's really aware of what he's doing, Aoba is flopped down onto the bed, staring at the ceiling. He's seen it a number of times, from this angle, and not from waking up on his back. Images and flashes of past pleasures come drifting to the front of his mind, and his cock stirs in interest. He glances at a clock - Koujaku won't be home for at least another hour...

Aoba unzips his jeans and strokes himself slowly to full hardness. There's no need to rush, and he feels lethargic, anyway. Thoughts and remembrances drift in and out of focus, some innocent kisses, some gentle fucks, others hard and bruising. The latter makes him bite his lower lip and screw his eyes shut - Koujaku is always careful not to hurt him, but when Aoba _asks_ for it hard, Koujaku doesn't hesitate to comply.

Aoba rolls onto his side without thinking, and his face is immediately in Koujaku's pillow. Aoba's surprised that he can still smell Koujaku; they've spent so much time together that he didn't think he could still really smell anything at Koujaku's place. But then, sometimes there is incense burning in the living room, and while it's never overpowering, it would be enough to make him be able to detect Koujaku's scent again. Some part of him is worried about how weird this would look if anyone was around to see him - before he can help himself, his face nuzzles further into the pillow, and his hand speeds up slightly.

He gasps, unable to resist, and the action floods his senses with Koujaku's smell. Aoba shudders, hand speeding up again, but at the same time also stroking more firmly. The part of him that isn't too busy being embarrassed by his own behaviour tells him to find a shirt or something of Koujaku's, and before he can think better of it, Aoba's pulling open one of the drawers, yanking out a dark t-shirt, and changing out of his own into it. His jeans get kicked to the floor, along with his socks, belt and underwear, and his shirt is thrown haphazardly on top of the pile, gloves going last.

Koujaku's shirt is entirely too big for him. It's particularly loose in the shoulders, which Aoba figured it would be, as Koujaku always hefts a giant sword around. It's also loose in the chest, and too long - Koujaku is more muscular where Aoba is leaner, so none of this surprises Aoba, but having a physical reminder of just how much bigger Koujaku is than him... Aoba shudders, pulling the collar of the shirt over his nose and inhaling deeply.

It's an instant reaction, and Aoba's face down on the bed without a second thought, muffling his moans into Koujaku's pillow. He switches hands just long enough to grab the lube out of the top drawer of the bedside stand, fumbling blindly with the cap until he hears it pop open. He slathers some over his fingers; surrounded by Koujaku's scent like this, it's easy enough to imagine that Aoba isn't touching himself, but that it's Koujaku instead.

Moaning loudly at the thought, Aoba slides a finger into himself carefully, squirming his hips a bit to adjust. He's impatient now, even though he brought this on himself, and he knows he's progressed too far to stop himself. A second finger slides in alongside the first, perhaps a bit too quickly as a sliver of pain races up his spine, but Aoba starts scissoring them almost immediately anyway.

Somewhere in the back of his mind he thinks he hears a door opening, but he can't focus on anything but the feeling of his fingers stretching himself open. It's hard to hold himself up like this, on his knees and chest, one hand wrapped firmly around his cock and the other slipping in and out of himself at a steady pace. He's biting the hem of the borrowed shirt, too, trying to keep it as close to his nose as he can without use of his hands. His chest arches toward the bed, stomach muscles twitching, hips undulating against his own fingers, and little breathy noises escape his mouth in pants and groans.

Just as his brain is reminding him of the noise he'd heard, a breathless, husky voice asks from the doorway, "Starting without me, are you?"

Aoba jerks in surprise at the throaty pitch of Koujaku's voice - how long had he been watching? Some embarrassed part of his brain is screaming at him to stop, to cover up, to apologize, do _something_ , but instead Aoba just moans loudly and tilts his hips back invitingly.

Koujaku is striding across the room instantly, stripping as he goes. Aoba can only vaguely see him out of the corner of his eyes, face buried in the pillow as it is, but it's enough to see the absolutely _predatory_ look on Koujaku's face. It makes another pleasant shiver race down his spine. To his surprise, though, Koujaku doesn't settle in behind him as he'd expected. Instead, Koujaku gently shoves him down by the shoulder so that he is laying on his side again. Aoba's confusion must show on his face because Koujaku just gives him a strained smile and says, "You look desperate."

Aoba can't even form a coherent response, just nods and gasps as Koujaku's hand joins his own on his cock. At first, teasingly, Koujaku slows them down - Aoba lets out a frustrated and desperate moan, flinging his head back, exposing the long line of his throat. As Koujaku leans forward to suck a mark onto his collar bone, he speeds their hands up again. Aoba jerks at the feeling of teeth against his throat - not deep enough to leave a mark, because Koujaku knows better than that, but still pleasant. The kisses work their way up his neck and onto his jaw before nipping his earlobe lightly; Aoba shudders and turns his head for a proper kiss, and Koujaku obliges readily, tongues flicking out to meet instantly as Aoba opens his mouth willingly.

Koujaku rolls them over suddenly, Aoba on his back, their hands still laced together on his cock, stroking firmly. Aoba shudders and squirms underneath Koujaku, particularly when he leans in close and his hair tickles Aoba's throat. At the same time Koujaku's scent washes over his senses, and before Aoba can help himself he's pressing his face to Koujaku's throat, tongue darting out to taste his skin. Koujaku huffs a breathy noise and slides their thumbs over the head of Aoba's cock roughly on the next upward motion. Aoba thrusts his hips up into it, and when Koujaku sits back and uses the freed hand (formerly holding himself up) to slide under his shirt and stroke over his nipples (because Aoba hadn't taken it off - he was still wearing Koujaku's shirt and hasn't even noticed - oh, what Koujaku must have _seen_ \- ), Aoba's back arches off the bed as he comes, spilling onto the front of said borrowed shirt. Koujaku strokes him through it until he squirms away, oversensitive.

When he's finished, Aoba collapses back down on to the bed, chest heaving for breath. Koujaku chases him, pressing kisses to whichever patches of skin they land on - Aoba trembles every once in a while from the ticklish sensation, but makes no effort to pull away. Aoba's just considering lifting his hips into Koujaku's lap invitingly when Koujaku speaks, startling him out of his blissed-out contemplation, "I didn't know you had such a thing for scents."

Aoba can feel his face heat up - he's still wearing the now-stained shirt, and Koujaku is idly tracing patterns on his chest and stomach despite his ticklish squirming. Or perhaps _because_ of it. Aoba snaps, embarrassed, "What are you - I don't! I just..."

Koujaku laughs good-naturedly, pressing more of his weight down on to Aoba's chest, making Aoba shudder at the physical closeness. Koujaku's scent, from here, is definitely stronger - without conscious thought, Aoba presses his nose against Koujaku's head, nuzzling his hair lightly. A few seconds pass before he realizes what he's done, and when he pulls away sharply, Koujaku just has a knowing grin on his face, looking like he's about to laugh. Before Aoba can bark at him again, Koujaku soothes, "Ah, you know I'm not making fun of you, Aoba, except for the fact that you try to hide these things." Koujaku leans forward to kiss him, and despite Aoba's surliness, he doesn't resist, though he doesn't participate as much as he could, either. Koujaku doesn't seem to mind the pettiness, pressing kisses to Aoba's cheek, forehead and eyelids gently.

Sighing as his agitation fades away bit by bit, Aoba's hands reach up to cup Koujaku's face and pull him back down for a gentle kiss. Aoba is quite aware that Koujaku wouldn't make fun of him that way, and once his brain accepts that, he wonders if Koujaku has any sort of thing like that. Sure, Aoba knows that Koujaku is ridiculously attached to Aoba's hair, and that he can hardly keep his hands out of it, but if there's anything else a little more... Creative.

It's that train of thought that reminds him of the fact that Koujaku's probably in need release of his own. When he opens his eyes again (when had he shut them, actually-?), sure enough Koujaku's expression is somewhere between affectionate and predatory. Like he's not trying to rush Aoba, and that he's just happy seeing Aoba happy. Koujaku is always so sweet, Aoba can't help but lean forward and kiss him thoroughly, teeth clinking and tongues tangled together.

When he has to break for air, an idea strikes him - the look on Koujaku's face as he'd spotted Aoba. Or at least when Aoba had turned to see it - he'd been aroused already. Certainly, it probably had something to do with the... _position_ Aoba had been in at the time, but was it only that? The fact that he still hasn't pulled his shirt off of Aoba, despite it being sticky and probably in the way... Curious, Aoba sits up and tugs lightly at the bottom hem, as if to pull it off over his head - Koujaku's hands land on top of his almost immediately.

... Indeed. Aoba grins cheekily as he glances up at Koujaku's face - sure enough, he looks flushed with arousal and embarrassed simultaneously.

"What," Aoba asks slyly, "is there something you want to say...?"

Koujaku huffs, averting his gaze momentarily, "Yeah yeah, I'm a hypocrite. Just... leave it on, please?"

He hadn't really been intending to take it off anyway, just gauging Koujaku's reaction. Almost apologetic, Aoba kisses Koujaku's cheek before laying back down and canting his hips upward invitingly, tugging the hem of the borrowed shirt down again so it just barely hides his cock. Koujaku visibly has to tear his eyes away, and Aoba relishes in the tiny victory before Koujaku leans forward again, and tugs down the hem at his neck, exposing his throat and collar bone. The shirt is loose enough that is moves easily, and without any additional warning, Koujaku bites a mark into the top of Aoba's chest, just below his left collar bone, laving his tongue over it and suckling enough so that it almost immediately starts bruising. Aoba jerks in surprise, not having been expecting the sudden flash of teeth, but certainly not objecting - it's low enough that nobody will see it, anyway.

When Koujaku releases the shirt, it doesn't move, practically framing the new mark on Aoba's pale skin. Aoba is sure he looks disheveled and flustered - his hair is probably in a wild state of disarray, and he knows he is blushing vibrantly. His cock is stirring again, interested, and he feels the blood pool low in his gut as Koujaku presses closer to lick at the mark once more before hitching the bottom hem of the shirt a little higher, stroking one hand lazily over Aoba's chest and stomach. It tickles, and Aoba squirms a bit. His legs move to draw shut unintentionally, but Koujaku holds them open gently with his free hand. Koujaku moves down Aoba's body, hands moving to grip onto his hips, occasionally moving to shift the shirt out of the way as he presses soft kisses and licks along Aoba's skin.

It's almost too much - Aoba _is_ super ticklish and Koujaku knows it - so Aoba is almost relieved when Koujaku pulls away.

Almost.

Aoba is puzzled, unsure of what Koujaku is doing and is thus surprised when Koujaku shifts and rolls them over suddenly before Aoba can question him. Aoba instinctively grabs Koujaku's arms once they're rolled over, and Koujaku's hands remain settled on Aoba's waist as he grins. Aoba is settled into Koujaku's upper thighs, almost close enough for Aoba to simply grind their cocks together, but Aoba suddenly has a different idea.

Aoba glances down at Koujaku's face, and shakes his head once, holding one hand up in a 'stop' gesture. Koujaku doesn't move, allowing Aoba to do whatever he wants, which at the moment is shifting down Koujaku's body before leaning over and abruptly taking the head of Koujaku's cock into his throat. It's clearly not what Koujaku was expecting, judging by the unexpected jerk his body gives, nearly choking Aoba, who hears Koujaku apologize for it immediately. Aoba flicks his tongue out over the tip to show that the apology was acknowledged, if unnecessary - he was the one who caught Koujaku off guard - before sliding his lips further down the shaft, tongue working as he moves. Aoba can feel Koujaku's legs trembling with effort of holding still so as not to jerk up again, and Aoba takes one of his free hands and strokes it over the skin that his lips aren't wrapped around. One of Koujaku's hands sinks into his hair, not forcing him down, only holding him steady.

After a moment, Aoba slips down a little further, bracing his arm against Koujaku's hips to prevent him from thrusting up unintentionally. Then the head of Koujaku's cock slides back into his throat properly, and Aoba moans around it. Koujaku's back arches a little, tilting his hips without thrusting up in order to make it easier on Aoba, whose other hand fumbles to find the lube.

Koujaku is clearly too distracted to even notice him searching, but he finds it soon enough anyway. Koujaku makes a confused noise at the pop of the cap, but Aoba just dips his fingers in and slides them back around behind himself. Aoba opens his eyes, nose pressed flush against Koujaku's pelvis; it's hard to see from this angle, but Aoba can at least see that Koujaku has braced himself up on his free elbow to watch Aoba's movements.

Aoba wonders idly how debauched he looks, lips wrapped around Koujaku's cock and fingering himself open again. He starts with two fingers, since he'd already been prepping himself before Koujaku had entered the room, and quickly moves up to three. His own actions make him moan, which in turn draws rough noises from Koujaku's throat, and his hand tightening in Aoba's hair.

After a little while longer of fingering himself open, Aoba nuzzles Koujaku's hip apologetically and slowly backs his mouth off of Koujaku's cock, licking and sucking periodically. The fingers in his hair loosen their grip, and Koujaku drops down from his elbow to lay flat on his back, though he keeps his half-lidded eyes on Aoba's face. Aoba shifts to sit up, and positions himself over Koujaku's cock, reaching back with one hand to guide it into himself. Koujaku's hands fly to his hips to help support him, and Aoba sinks down, feeling himself stretch to accommodate the intrusion. Koujaku grimaces, clearly refraining from thrusting up immediately; once Aoba is fully seated, he pauses for a while to allow his body to get used to the feeling again. Koujaku's thumbs trace lazy circles into his hipbones under the shirt, making him squirm a bit ticklishly. It helps distract him, though, so Aoba only murmurs half-hearted protests until he's comfortable.

Then he's moving, and Koujaku's hands grip tight to give him as much support as he possibly can. Aoba leans over, holding himself up by his arms for leverage, starting slowly just to be on the safe side. Koujaku lifts his torso and presses kisses to whatever his lips can reach. Aoba presses their mouths together, tongues darting out immediately, Aoba's drawing Koujaku's into his mouth to suck on it. 

Aoba jerks in surprise when Koujaku abruptly lifts him and drags him back down, breaking the kiss with a surprised moan. The pace is rapidly becoming nothing more than teasing, and so Aoba starts moving faster, Koujaku's grip helping accommodate the change. There will likely be finger shaped bruises on Aoba's hips when they're done. The thought is arousing - since he and Koujaku have to keep their relationship secret, they always have to be so careful. But marks in places nobody else ever sees - he'll be bearing proof of their relationship, in public, but nobody will know. It sends a jolt of thrill down Aoba's spine and he grinds down harder, choking on a breath. Koujaku forcibly shifts his body, and then next time Aoba slides down, Koujaku's cock nudges his prostate. His arms tremble and he moans loudly, forcing himself to repeat the motion, relying on Koujaku to aim it properly.

Koujaku is paying enough attention, too. Before, he'd been maintaining eye contact, checking for any signs of discomfort. Now his eyes seem stuck on where their bodies are joined - Aoba wonders what sort of picture Koujaku is seeing, his cock sliding in and out of Aoba's body with such ease, the hem of his shirt brushing the tip of Aoba's cock... He feels lewd just thinking about it, bearing down again to distract himself from the thought. Just because Koujaku is staring doesn't mean he has to consider it. 

Still, even this faster pace isn't enough. The angle is too difficult to keep up the pace from; just as he's about to whine in frustration, Koujaku abruptly sits up, Aoba fully in his lap momentarily before he shoves them completely over. The motion jostles Aoba almost uncomfortably, but any pain quickly fades away as Koujaku kisses him aggressively and thrusts harder. 

Aoba shudders and gasps, thighs tightening around Koujaku's waist to pull him closer, deeper. His legs are trembling, pleasure coursing through him, and Koujaku releases his mouth and kisses his throat instead, careful not to bite even though it's clear he wants to. Aoba wishes he could too, but they've already agreed that it would be better if they didn't make their relationship public knowledge - Koujaku has a rather large gathering of fangirls who admire/love Koujaku and would be completely jealous of some random guy (in their eyes) "stealing Koujaku away" from them. Even though Aoba has known him longer than any of those girls have, and Koujaku's the one that made the first move anyway. Not that those girls would know that, or need to. 

Aoba is jostled from his thoughts as Koujaku presses their mouths together again, and manages to thrust against his prostate again, making him jerk hard. His cock is caught between the borrowed shirt and Koujaku's stomach, surrounded by friction, and Aoba knows he won't be able to take much more. His hands move from their grip on Koujaku's thighs to wrap around his neck, tugging him down and keeping their tongues pressed firmly together. 

He's forced to break away when Koujaku hits that spot again, though. Koujaku isn't letting up, pace still hard and fast, and Aoba can't help but spill with a cry of Koujaku's name as the waves of pleasure pulse through his body. He instinctively clenches, and it only takes a few more thrusts before Koujaku is grunting Aoba's name in return, and coming inside him.

Aoba pulls Koujaku down on top of him briefly, heedless of the weight, just craving the closeness. Koujaku obliges for a while, nuzzling his face into Aoba's shoulder, but then he slowly pulls back and away, sliding out of Aoba carefully. He doesn't go far, just moves enough to lay down beside Aoba rather than on top of him. His fingers move to play with Aoba's hair idly, stroking through. Aoba tilts his head into the touch; Koujaku _is_ a hairdresser, and he always seems to know just what feels good. Aoba is tempted to sleep - there isn't any reason why he shouldn't, as he'd planned on spending the night anyway, and Koujaku stroking his hair like this is always incredibly relaxing.

A thought occurs to him, though, and he yawns as he asks, "Weren't you not supposed to be home yet? I didn't think you would be for at least another hour."

"Well I knew I'd be coming home to you, so I wanted to hurry." Koujaku pauses and smirks, "Though admittedly I wasn't expecting _that_... Not that I'm complaining."

Aoba half-heartedly slaps Koujaku's arm, blushing faintly. He hadn't exactly been expecting it, himself, either. His intentions had only been to look around a bit - sure, he's been in Koujaku's house any number of times, but he's never really paid all that much attention to the fine details. "Shut up. I'm going to sleep."

Koujaku hums obligingly, continuing to stroke Aoba's hair gently. He doesn't mention the fact that if Aoba sleeps now, he'll just wake up disoriented later, knowing that Aoba will do it regardless. Then Koujaku's hand stops, and Aoba mumbles some half-coherent protest, having just been drifting off, but Koujaku just pulls him close and whispers "I love you" into Aoba's hair. Aoba nuzzles closer, tilting his head up for a kiss, exhausted but overwhelmingly happy. "Love you too," he replies, before Koujaku presses their mouths together gently. Aoba pulls away with a sleepy smile, and as he drifts off, he vaguely feels Koujaku’s hand in his hair again.

… Maybe he’ll try this again someday soon. It might not have been on purpose, but he can’t complain about the results, anyway. He presses one more kiss to Koujaku’s throat before falling asleep, grin on his face.


End file.
